Give a man a fish?

Give a man a fish, and you will feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and you’ll feed him for a lifetime.

I can’t fish. No one ever taught me. But to be honest, I never really wanted to learn. I never sat down with a rod and a reel and a body of water and tried to figure it out. I don’t know if fishing is really that mystifying anyway. Do we need someone to show us how to do it?

Maybe it isn’t about fishing at all.
Maybe it is about more.

Maybe it is about giving of oneself in order to make another person better. 

But then again, that sounds harder than teaching someone to actually fish… 

So, who am I teaching to ‘fish’ anyway? Who am I giving something of myself to?

My work colleges? Ha! I barely know their names. Some of them I like, but some of them I loathe. And others of them are lucky to avoid a daily smack in the mouth. At work I am focussed on one thing and one thing only...5 o’clock. Oh, and my job of course. I work to work. I work to get paid. I work because I need to. At work I do not have the time or the inclination to give any more of myself than I need to in order to do my job. If you’re in a job like mine, then I know you understand. Some people are doctors or teachers or whatnot and they contribute, they ‘teach a man to fish’. But some people answer phones and type on a computer. And speaking for those of us riding a desk 40 hours a week, there’s no room for a rod and a reel anywhere in my cubicle.

So, who am I teaching to fish?

The people I see in the street? Nope. I try my best not to make eye contact. I try my best to keep my head down and to give an air of ‘can’t stop, I’m late for an important thing.’ There are people on the bus I might smile at, a lady I might offer my seat to. But that’s giving a fish, surely. No teaching there.

So, who am I teaching to fish?

Who am I around enough that even wants to learn to fish from someone like me?

Luckily for me, I have a great family. And in my family I have four sons.

And here is where my analogy falls apart. Because when it comes to sons, I’m pretty sure I am supposed to teach them to fish. Like, literally. And clean it and cook it and all that stuff.
But I guarantee there are people in the world more qualified than me. People who know about the catching of fish. Other people who know about the cleaning and selling of the fish that is caught. And finally, people who know about the cooking of the caught and cleaned fish.

Who am I to get in the way of this thriving industry?!

And so, I do not teach my sons to fish. But I teach them lots of other things.

Things their mother doesn’t teach them. 
Things their friends can’t teach them. 
And things society won’t teach them.

I teach my sons how to be men.

I teach them how to shake hands and look a person in the eye. I teach them how to respond in adverse circumstances. I teach them how to pee standing up. I teach them that it is ok to hold a hug for three seconds, but not for four.

Give a man a hug, and he’ll be loved for a few seconds. 
Teach a man to hug, and his friends won’t think he’s weird...

And I hope the lessons I teach my sons will stay with them for the rest of their lives, just like the skill of fishing would have if I were able to teach them that. I hope they learn these lessons well, and pass them on to their sons. I hope to hear my sons give my advice one day, just like I hear my father’s voice in my advice to them.

When we talk about ‘teaching a man to fish’ what we probably mean is ‘teach a boy to fish’ don’t you think?

Teach a man to fish?

Teach a boy to fish.

Teach your son to fish. 

Teach your son to be a man. 

Everyone has a dream

Everyone has a dream. 

It is a common saying, and a true one I suppose. But the truth is deeper than that. The truth is that everyone has a different dream. 

The bored student in the classroom, gazing out of dirty windows. He dreams of summer holidays. He dreams of endless weekends and no shoes. He dreams of melting ice creams and football in the street and leaping into water. Mostly he dreams of freedom, of no school and no rules. 

The tired shift worker, struggling at the end of a series of night shifts, she dreams of home. Of comfortable smells and an even more comfortable bed. She dreams of a quiet family, even though she knows she won’t get it. She dreams that the money she makes will go to building the dreams of her children. She dreams about her children’s dreams. 

There is an old man, sitting in an old man’s chair. He dreams of days gone by, of past lives, of school days and work days and the days in between. He dreams of his wife, gone for a few years now, but still so vivid in those dreams. So real he can smell her, hear her, almost...touch her. He dreams of not being in his old man’s chair. 

She is a young girl, so talented, so gifted. She twirls and spins, she leaps without fear. She dreams of the Olympics. She dreams of beating that girl who put her in second place last year. She dreams of small corrections and perfect landings and making everyone proud. She dreams of flawless movement. 

A toddler at child care, restless for home time. He dreams of his mother appearing at the gate. He dreams of getting his bag and his lunch box. He dreams of waving goodbye to the other children and the teachers. He dreams of the comfort of holding his mother’s hand as they walk out together. He dreams in the short term, he dreams in the now. 

The business man at his desk, dreams of the weekend. But work crashes in and he also dreams of deadlines and computers and meetings. He refocusses and dreams instead of golf, and lazily washing the car. He dreams of easy dinners and a relaxed family. He dreams of the weekend, and not the week that follows it. 

A homeless teen, shrugging into a jacket that is too thin against the wind that is too cold. He dreams of enough food, enough money. He dreams of a good night’s sleep and a place of his own. He dreams of not being scared of the cops, who are there to help everyone else, but only want to move him on. He dreams of comfort in an uncomfortable world. 

Whether it is grand or simple, everyone has a dream. 

Whether is is acheivable or unattainable, everyone has a dream. 

Whether it is so close or impossibly far, everyone has a dream. 

Everyone has a dream. 

Everyone has a different  dream.